In the Next Life

By Louis A. Merrimac

If a giant robot exists only for the benefit of humans who live inside it, and it instinctively does what's best for them, is it truly self-directed? Is a pretend religion better than no religion at all? Do parallel story lines ever meet? Whose side is the hypotenuse on, anyway? Where should you report a long-term depreciable asset sold at a gain? Why did the world end in 1998 and not in a year divisible by 1000? You won't find the answers here, but you might find some better questions.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Ailemanna Press
• Release date: Aug 29, 2023
• ISBN: 9798988852124

Book preview

IN THE NEXT LIFE

LOUIS A. MERRIMAC

Ailemanna Press

Ailemanna Press

In the Next Life is a work of fiction. All incidents and dialogue, and all characters with the exception of some well-known historical figures, are products of the author's imagination and are not to be construed as real. Where real-life historical figures appear, the situations, incidents, and dialogues concerning those persons are entirely fictional and are not intended to depict actual events or to change the entirely fictional nature of the work. In all other respects, any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.

Copyright © 2023 Louis A. Merrimac. All rights reserved.

Portions of the story were posted to Facebook in 2010 and 2011. Recordings of the music were posted to YouTube between 2014 and 2023.

Cover design by Louis A. Merrimac

Interior design by Sue Trowbridge

Identifiers:

Library of Congress Control Number: 2023914707

ISBN (Print): 979-8-9888521-0-0

ISBN (Ebook): 979-8-9888521-1-7

No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

For Vallery, with whom I manage the kettle

And marvel at things like a bee on a petal

With love and with gratitude for the abettal

CONTENTS

PART 1

CANTO I: THE CREATION

CANTO II: THE FALL

CANTO III: THE REDEMPTION

CANTO IV: THE REVELATION

PART 2

Prologue

Fruitful

Fittest

One Over

Tangential

Divergent

Retro

Previous

Next

Afterword

PART 1

CANTO I: THE CREATION

In which several concerned persons undertake to save the world by exploiting its impending destruction, and a sort of robot is employed to this purpose, being designed to carry people in hostile environments for extended periods.

Do you ever get the feeling that ‘free will’ is a joke?

—The Book of the Subgenius, Chapter 0

I watched a pair of cardinals today.

The hen and cock were never far apart.

It’s said they’re seldom seen another way.

Despite all reasoning, that warms my heart.

Now, any male chimpanzee, so I’ve heard,

obtains what sex he can without regard

for whom he had before, unlike the bird

who, with his mate, brings cheer to my back yard.

So why is it that I do not possess

the nature of our closer relative?

I envy his uncurbed licentiousness,

and yet I’m like the finch in how I live.

Not only do I act that way; I’m proud

to be devoted to my only bride.

Fidelity is what we say aloud.

A lapse therein is something we must hide.

If like a chimp, I’d be so much more free.

With women, I would share no more than fun.

I would not take responsibility

for what might happen after I am done.

Chimpanzees, one might say, don’t have our brains.

They haven’t near as much to learn, at least.

A mother ape, by instinct, merely trains

her young to gather food, just like a beast.

Our aptitudes increase as knowledge grows.

We gain a big advantage when we’re taught.

We think, invent, establish, and propose.

That extra parent’s handy, is he not?

Okay, that’s fine so far: We’ll say a dad’s

behavior is adaptive; that’s resolved.

But not too long ago, all men were cads.

How rapidly have families evolved?

Besides, if fatherhood were ours innate,

then men not brought up right would still behave

a lot more like the rest, whose chosen fate

is kin to volunteering as a slave.

That’s not to say, I should point out, that men

are under women’s orders. That’s too far.

It just seems rather self-defeating when

considering what our genetics are.

Could modified selection be the key?

Some values might have made their holders act

in ways that gave the holders’ progeny

a start in life that other children lacked.

Let’s take a value, then, down to its core.

What mechanism causes one to feel

that some things rate, and others even more?

Could it be tangible? Could it be real?

Well, if it is, we’d find it in our heads—

arrangements of the nerve cells, things like that—

a pattern that repeats, with varied threads,

depending on the neural habitat.

A pattern that’s translated into speech

or other media the pattern finds.

And as we argue, entertain, and teach,

we spread these patterns to each other’s minds.

What are these minds thus modeled by these molds?

They’re parts of organisms that have grown

from blueprints. Who wrote them? Who drew the folds

through which words pass as we play Telephone?

Some scientists are now describing genes

as patterns that maintain themselves through time

by changing raw materials to machines

that pass them on—a useful paradigm.

There might be other levels of that game,

as certain kinds of thinking have been thought

to use the human mind to stay the same.

Perhaps this is the is that makes the ought.

I’ll leave it up to greater minds than mine

to tell us why our genes cooperate.

We’d have to view the whole ancestral line.

That’s more than I can handle at this date.

So, what I’d like to do today instead

is follow one of these things for a while

to see the possibilities ahead.

We’ll skip the past and turn another dial.

Suppose a group of people, highly placed,

are critically massed one afternoon.

They think, as many do, that we are faced

with nuclear disaster fairly soon.

They meet at a symposium, let’s say,

and hear respected scientists recite

disheartening predictions of the day

that fallout turns into an endless night.

They fear not on humanity’s behalf.

Some few will live to start the race anew.

And those who don’t have had their chance to laugh.

No creature lives forever in this zoo.

Do they fit at the rim of the bell curve?

Perhaps, although their values have great worth.

Their mission is no less than to conserve

what’s left of civilization on this earth.

In order to accomplish this, they’ll need

some healthy men and women they can train.

These individuals will be the seed

from which society will grow again.

The problem here: They can’t just advertise

for volunteers to live while others die.

For this to work, it must be a surprise.

It doesn’t take a genius to see why.

A similar endeavor’s what they need,

compatible with what they want to do.

Embed some staff, discredit those who lead,

then take control and work some changes through.

It just so happens something of the sort

is being planned and soon will be in place:

an underwater test of life support

in preparation for a home in space.

I’ll fill you in a little on the way

some astronauts will spend the coming year.

Were I a novelist I’d have to say

you’d need some details that you won’t get here.

The idea is to start the thing out small:

two metal cylinders set end to end.

Some airplane fuselages gave up all

except their noses so they could attend.

They’re separated by an airtight lock

to limit leaks in case of accident.

A passageway connects them to a dock

through which replacements and waste can be sent.

The tubes can be unhooked so they run free,

with six pneumatic legs ranged side by side,

a pair of which can grab things from the sea,

the other four remaining in their stride.

And if the project goes as well as planned,

they’ll add more vessels made from the same mold.

But only the materials come from land;